


joysticks

by little_archivist



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Kissing, M/M, No Fear Entities (The Magnus Archives), Oral Sex, Sex-Neutral Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Trans Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Vaginal Fingering, Video & Computer Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:27:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29484420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_archivist/pseuds/little_archivist
Summary: Tim's breath catches in his throat as Jon’s hand brushes against the space between his legs, and his thighs twitch together involuntarily before he forcibly stills them.“Jon.”“What?” Jon says innocently. “Sorry, am Idistractingyou from your game?.Tim plays a horror video game and needs a distraction. Jon is more than happy to assist.
Relationships: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 86





	joysticks

**Author's Note:**

> I think about the fact that one of Tim's hobbies is video games daily
> 
> CW for a brief period of time at the beginning where Tim hasn't consented to sexual contact yet (but he does consent shortly after) and some minor horror video game themes
> 
> Words used for Tim's parts are clit and cunt

“Tim?”

“Hmm?” Tim says, not looking away from the screen. His pulse jumps when his character rounds a corner and their flashlight lands on a figure with _far_ too many limbs crouched in the center of the room. “ _Jesus,_ ” he says, pressing a series of buttons on his controller in quick succession until the _thing_ is thoroughly decimated. _This is why I don’t do horror games,_ he thinks with his heart still in his throat.

“You don’t have to keep playing if you’re scared,” Jon remarks as he sits on the couch next to Tim, his thigh a grounding presence against Tim’s. “From what I understand, video games are an _opt-in_ experience.”

Tim looks away from the screen long enough to give Jon a withering look. “Yeah, I _could_ quit,” he says, the quick motions of his thumbs on the joysticks navigating him away from a room filled with strange white, crawling things. “But that would be admitting defeat, Jon, and I will _not_ be bested by a video game just because it’s a bit too scary.”

“You know,” Jon says, in that _infuriating_ tone of voice he gets sometimes when he thinks he’s right about something and is all too proud of it, “there’s no shame in being scared.” A pause. “Even _if_ the graphics in this game are sub-par and the monsters are clichéd at best.”

Tim lets out a long, drawn-out groan. “If you don’t like it,” he says, jabbing a few buttons on his controller spitefully, “you can leave.”

“Just making an observation.” Jon hums, leaning a bit closer to Tim so that he can better see the screen. “There’s something in the corner.”

“ _Christ,_ ” Tim says, and he physically moves his body backward as he navigates quickly out of the room, only stopping to breathe once he’s safe in an already-explored area of the map. “I know it’s part of the horror, but couldn’t they give me a _slightly_ bigger field of view? Jesus.” He rubs his forearm across his forehead, his hands still holding his controller tightly, and says, “Maybe I’m just too- too _focused_ or something. I need to get out of my head.”

“Oh?” Jon sounds _curious_ , which is never a good sign. When Tim takes a quick glance over at him, he sees Jon’s forehead creased in thought, his lips pressed together into the barest hint of a smile that Tim might call _scheming_ if he weren’t so distracted by the way that Jon’s hand is suddenly resting on his thigh. “A distraction, then?”

“Um,” Tim says eloquently. He licks his lips and looks back at the screen. “Some- something like that, yeah. Just, er. Something to keep me grounded here, in the room? To remind me that it’s just a game.”

“Grounded,” Jon echoes, and this time Tim can _hear_ the smile in his voice.

“Jon,” Tim says, ignoring the way that Jon’s hand is now sitting quite solidly on his hipbone, his fingers traveling slightly further down. “If you think you’re being subtle, you’re really, _really_ not—”

His voice catches in his throat as Jon’s hand brushes against the space between his legs, and his thighs twitch together involuntarily before he forcibly stills them. “ _Jon._ ”

“What?” Jon says innocently. “Sorry, am I _distracting you_ from your game? Please, by all means.” He gestures to the screen with his free hand, and his other presses down gently. It still draws a gasp from Tim’s mouth, sharp and bitten-off. Under his breath, Jon says softly, “Is- is this okay?”

Tim swallows, hard. “Yeah,” he rasps. Fuck, it’s _more_ than okay. “Are you—?”

Jon doesn’t usually initiate, doesn’t particularly enjoy being touched himself. But from the way that Jon moves his hand slightly, so that the heel of it rubs against Tim’s clit through two layers of clothing, Tim’s quite sure that today is one of those _only sometimes_ days. He’s proven right when Jon says, a bit tersely, “Well, I _am_ offering.”

“Right,” Tim says, well aware that his face is probably cherry red and ignoring the way he’s already squirming up against Jon’s touch, heat coiling low in his belly. “Right.” 

He turns his attention back to the game.

And Jon gets on his knees.

Tim tries to focus on the game as Jon slowly, methodically wriggles Tim’s trousers off him, then his pants. They bunch around his knees, and out of the corner of his eye, Tim sees Jon frown at them, just for a moment, before shucking them off him completely. Tim squirms a bit, the chill of the air biting at the tender skin of his thighs. Then, Jon places a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of Tim’s thigh, and Tim is suddenly very, very warm. 

Tim’s fingers remain miraculously steady on the joystick as he navigates through the next room, checking each corner for the many-legged, pale-white creatures that he’s meant to kill (or, as he’s taken to doing, to avoid). He shines his flashlight into a corner as Jon places another kiss to the inside of his thigh. He doesn’t find a monster, but Tim’s heart still stutters as Jon runs his teeth along the inside of Tim’s thigh before biting down gently _._

“Fuck,” Tim says under his breath. From the way that Jon’s lips curl into a smile against his skin, it wasn’t quiet enough.

_Smug bastard,_ Tim thinks fondly.

This continues for several minutes. Tim searches the rooms of the abandoned building (Asylum? Hospital? He’s honestly not sure at this point) while Jon peppers little kisses to the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, soothing the purpling skin where kisses had turned to bites with another soft brush of his lips. His hands are warm on Tim’s skin, holding his knees far enough apart so that Jon has adequate space with which to work, and it’s _lovely._

Still, Tim can’t help a cheeky, “You know, I’m not really feeling very _distracted_ right now. Actually, I think I’m really rather _focused_.”

“Oh?” Jon says softly, his lips ghosting across Tim’s skin. Then, all at once, his mouth is on Tim, taking Tim’s already-sensitive clit into his mouth and sucking, _hard_.

Tim’s moan is embarrassingly loud. He almost drops the controller onto Jon’s head. “ _Fuck,_ ” he says eloquently.

Jon hums. The vibrations make Tim squirm a bit until Jon’s hands shift and pin him in place against the couch. He takes his mouth away long enough to say, in that low voice that he _knows_ Tim can’t get enough of, “Is that better?”

“Yep,” Tim manages to say. “You’re a— _ah!_ —you’re great.”

Tim is still looking at the screen, but he thinks he feels Jon smile again. “Great,” Jon echoes. And then his mouth is on Tim again, and Tim loses the ability to form words.

It’s all Tim can do to keep his hands on the controller and his thumb guiding the joystick as Jon eats him out. He moves away from Tim’s clit for a moment to swipe his tongue across the entrance to Tim’s cunt before returning with increased vigor, then repeats the motion again and again until Tim’s honestly not sure if he’s processing anything other than the feeling of Jon’s tongue on him and the press of Jon’s hands against his thighs.

A monster enters his field of vision on the screen, and Tim scrapes together enough of his higher brain functions to take care of it, albeit in a _much_ less effective way than he’d like. He encounters two more in quick succession, their forms emerging from the shadows suddenly enough that Tim thinks he might have yelped if his mouth wasn’t busy letting out little _ah_ s and _right there_ s and _yes, Jon, please_ s. Still, he manages to say, breathily, “I— _ah!_ —I’m still feeling a- a bit— _fuck, Jon_ —a bit scared. You might want to—”

Any thought of what Tim might have been suggesting escapes him entirely when one of Jon’s hands leaves his thigh and Jon takes his mouth away from Tim’s clit long enough to slide one finger inside his cunt. Tim’s hands clench around the controller, his fingers pressing a series of random buttons, and he can’t help the little _oh, **fuck** _that escapes him.

“Better get through this level before you come,” Jon says conversationally, like he doesn’t have one finger buried inside Tim. “It wouldn’t do to have put in all this work only for you to not finish the game because you got _scared._ ”

“ _God,_ Jon,” Tim says, his thighs tightening reflexively. Jon uses the hand still on Tim’s left leg to hold it down, braces his shoulder against the other. His finger is maddeningly unmoving inside of Tim. “Jon, _fuck,_ please—”

“Hm?” Jon says, and crooks his finger. At Tim’s moan, Jon says, “Why don’t you tell me what’s happening in the game? That _is_ why we’re doing this after all, isn’t it? To make sure you can play most effectively?”

Tim just nods quickly and manages to focus his attention on the screen. “There’s- _ah,_ there’s a doorway ahead,” he says, and Jon hums and begins moving his finger, crooking it every so often in a way that makes Tim’s breath hitch. He continues, “I’m walking- _ah,_ I’m walking through it, and there’s- _hhng,_ there’s nothing in here, I don’t think, but I haven’t really— _ahhhh!_ ”

Jon, who’s just slipped a second finger inside Tim’s cunt, makes a questioning noise that Tim wishes he didn’t find so unbearably attractive. “Haven’t really what?” he says and begins to move his fingers again, scissoring them as he does so. The stretch of it draws another moan from Tim’s mouth.

“ _Fuck._ Okay, uh. I haven’t- _ah,_ I haven’t really gotten the hang of how the mechanics work yet, so- _ah, ah!_ _Fuck,_ so it could, uh. Things tend to just- _Christ,_ they tend to just jump out at me.” Tim manipulates the joystick a bit harder than necessary, moving through the rooms at a quick pace. He’s honestly not sure if he would even notice if there were a monster—not when Jon is teasing the tip of a third finger at his entrance. He thinks he might be losing his mind just a little bit.

“I think,” Tim says, then moans as Jon begins to gently, relentlessly, ease a third finger inside. It’s _tight,_ and the stretch feels so goddamned good that Tim thinks he might actually die right here and now. He bites his lip, _hard,_ and continues, “I- I think I’m- _ahhh,_ I think I’m almost done with this level. There’s- _fuck, fuck,_ there’s a door ahead, it looks different, I- I think there’s a- _Jesus Christ, Jon._ ”

“There’s a what?” Jon says, his voice still maddeningly unruffled even as he crooks his fingers—three of them—inside of Tim, shifting until he finds the spot that makes Tim’s back arch into the couch and a high-pitched, needy whine slip free from his throat.

“Theresanexitsign,” Tim says, all in a rush, because he’s about three seconds away from losing his ability to speak coherently. “On- on the door, there’s an exit sign.”

“Ah,” Jon says, sounding pleased. “Well, I suppose then we ought to get on with it.”

And then, with three fingers still buried in Tim’s cunt, Jon puts his mouth on Tim’s clit again, and Tim forgets how to breathe.

Tim’s honestly not sure how he manages to guide his character through the last section of dark, shadowed rooms and through the exit door. He just knows that when he finally comes, gushing around Jon’s fingers and onto Jon’s chin with a bitten-off shout, the save screen is flashing across the television with a message informing him that he’s just completed level one.

Of twenty.

Small victories, he supposes.

“ _Christ,_ ” Tim says breathlessly, and he finally takes his attention away from the screen to see Jon sitting back on his heels, his arm swiping across his chin with a look of mild distaste that’s born more of the fact that Tim’s slick has just gotten all over Jon’s favorite jumper and less of the fact that it’s _Tim’s slick._ “Maybe I should play horror games more often.”

Jon pauses in wiping his hand on his trousers long enough to send Tim a dry look, but not one without fondness. “I have been told that I can be rather… _disruptive_ to one’s focus. Though it’s usually in a significantly different context.”

Tim chuckles. “Yeah, I bet.” He sets the controller down on the couch, leans down, and tilts Jon’s chin up so he can press a soft kiss to Jon’s lips. When Jon shifts, tilting his head to accommodate Tim, Tim presses more insistently into his mouth, tasting himself on Jon’s tongue as he kisses Jon soundly.

When he pulls back, Jon’s face is flushed high, and he’s looking at Tim with an expression that Tim wants to file away forever—something disheveled and affectionate in equal measure, a look on Jon that Tim just can’t get enough of. “That was level one?” Jon asks, a bit breathlessly, nodding his head toward the screen.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” Tim says, belatedly remembering the game.

Jon’s smile is like fireworks in Tim’s chest. “Want to do another one?”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr at [little-archivist!](https://little-archivist.tumblr.com/)


End file.
